


My Precious Boy

by MagicalStranger13



Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-06
Updated: 2015-05-06
Packaged: 2018-03-29 06:46:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3886357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicalStranger13/pseuds/MagicalStranger13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Baby mine, don't you cry...</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Precious Boy

**Author's Note:**

> 100 hits! 1 new story!  
> I do not own the song referenced in the summary.  
> Inspired by *that* scene in Disney's 'Dumbo'.  
> Warning! Sad!

Bog flinched as his mother dabbed some more antiseptic on the large cut above his swollen left eye.  The unarmored skin of his face was littered with fresh gashes and rapidly darkening bruises.  His long nose was bent at an awkward angle and it was starting to bleed again.  He was missing a couple of teeth and his lower lip was split open.

Currently, the pair were sitting together on the boy’s bed as Griselda thoroughly cleaned each of his wounds.    

“I’m _not_ angry that you _were_ fighting, Bog.”  The queen scolded, gently pressing a cloth under his nostrils to help stop the blood flow.  “I’m _angry_ that you _started_ the fight!  How many times have your father and I told you?  You _never_ start fights, you _finish_ them!  A coward antagonizes, but a _warrior_ defends!”

“I _didn’t_ -ow-start it!” The prince grouched, fisting his hands over his scraped knees.  His knuckles were raw and a few of his claws were chipped.  “That stupid Cromley did!” 

“ _Don’t_ you _lie_ to me!” His mom growled, grabbing his battered chin carefully, but firmly, to make him look her in the eye.  “The instructor saw _you_ throw the first punch.  Now you tell me the  _truth_.  _What_ happened?!”

The boy jerked his head away and she _let_ him, but she held her glare as she waited for the explanation.

“He…he said…that-that…I…”

“That you _what_?”

Bog started to tremble.  His lips pursed and his nasal breathing became harsh and unsteady.  He gulped a dry lump down his throat.

Something was forcing its way to the surface.  Something he tried to keep buried deep every day of his life.        

His eyes pinched and stung and his gut clenched. 

No, he wouldn’t. 

He could take the pain.  It wasn’t his first fight.  He was just _angry_ , that’s all it was.  It was _okay_ to be angry.  He had a _right_ to be angry.

It was _not_ okay to be-

“Bog?”

His vision blurred. 

Like a viper-strike, Bog mercilessly swiped at the wetness in his traitorous eyes. 

 _No_!

He was royalty!  Son of the Briar King!

“Bog, _answer_ me!  What did Cromley say to you?”

Her son pushed himself to reply strongly.

Strength was all that mattered.

“He…called me an ugly _freak_.”

Griselda’s impatient frown vanished, but Bog wasn’t through yet.

“He said I should’ve been _killed_ at birth and that the only reason I _wasn’t_ , was because…because dad wouldn’t _let_ you.  Then all the other kids started laughing and chanting and…and I knew it was wrong, but I…I just got so _mad_ I _hit_ him, okay?!”

The goblin queen stared at her son for several long, silent moments.  When she _did_ decide to speak again, her voice was gentle, but there was a clever glint in her eyes that Bog failed to catch.

“I’m gonna tell you a quick story, and if you listen, I _won’t_ tell your father about this when he gets back from the Gremlin Hollow next week.” 

“A story?” Bog repeated, perking up at the mention of his father being kept in the dark about his misbehavior.  

“Uh-huh, it’s the story of how I met the _handsomest_ goblin in the whole world!”

…

The prince’s brow drew in confusion and slight offense.

Was she _kidding_ him with this?!

“What?”

“The handsomest goblin in the whole world!”

“Mom, I really dorn’t-”

“Shush!  Now I had-”

“But how is this-?”

She swatted his elbow.

“Don’t _interrupt_ your _mother_!  As I was saying, I had dreamed of meeting this goblin my _whole_ life.  The older I got, the more hours I spent thinking about what he might look like.  About what conversations we’d have, what games we’d play, what places we’d visit, and all sorts of other things!  Then, a few years ago, I got my chance, at _last_!  But it wasn’t easy; there were a lot preparations to be made.  It took almost two whole years to get everything ready, but the day _finally_ came!  I had _never_ worked so hard before!  I was sweating and screaming like a hog.  I even thought I was gonna pass out a few times!  Thankfully, I didn’t.”

Her tone grew impossibly softer. 

“When it was all finished, they brought him to me, all wrapped up in a moss bundle…”

Bog’s gaze slowly dawned with understanding.

“…and I just couldn’t stop looking at him…because he was so much more _beautiful_ than I had _ever_ imagined…and you _still_ are.”

As her words sunk in, that something, that _dangerous_ something, Bog had desperately tried to hold back, came bursting through his emotional barriers like an invading army.  His expression crumpled and with several helpless whimpers, a wave of endless, salty tears streamed down his cheeks.

Griselda opened her arms to him with the most tender of all smiles.

“C’mere.”

Her son immediately threw himself at her, clutching her dress and muffling his heavy sobs and shuddering gasps against her heart. 

She kissed his head and rubbed soothing circles on his back and shoulders.  She knew this wouldn’t be the last time he faced such cruel teasing, but she would _always_ be here to assure him that such ignorance was made up of nothing but fear and lies. 

“Shh, shh, don’t cry, honey.”

It was not a reprimand; only a mother’s loving comfort.

“You listen to _me_ , sweetheart.  Don’t you _ever_ mind what those little monsters say to you.  Do you hear me?  _Ever_.”

Bog choked out a wet cough and hugged her tighter.

She rocked him back and forth and hummed a few bars of a lullaby she used to sing to him when he was an infant. 

There was no one to judge here.  

No strict fathers, no hateful brats. 

No one.

Just a mother and her child.

Eventually, Bog began to calm until he uttered nothing but a few quiet sniffles, but he stayed in his mom’s embrace, too exhausted to move. 

“You are _so_ precious to me.”  She whispered into his ear as he drifted off to sleep.  “You’re my _precious_ boy.”         

**Author's Note:**

> Griselda totally had a looooooong and threatening discussion with that Cromley kid's parents.
> 
> Yeah, I still had some goblin-mom on the brain and then that frickin' song came on my i-pod shuffle today and the gears (and tear ducts) just went into overdrive. 
> 
> Poor little Boggy-Woggy! I gotta get back to writing about your happy future instead of your rough childhood!


End file.
